Slow Suicide

[7]

It was very cloudy.

She was having trouble reading in the dark. Luckily, she had remembered her phone and used its flashlight.

"It's pretty dark today, huh?"

"Yeah, it is, " she responded, slightly surprised he didn't blow the smoke onto her face like every other day.

He looked down, biting his lip. "I, um, was reading this article last night."

"Oh?" she leaned forward. "What was it about?"

"It was about this thing called...second hand smoke, " he muttered, sounding guilty.

"Oh."

"Yeah. It said it could cause lung cancer, even to non-smokers."

She nodded. "Wow. I never knew that."

"Me neither. But now that I do, I want to say sorry to you, " he said and an involuntary smile spread across her face.

"Why are you sorry?"

"Well..." he frowned. "I've been blowing my smoke right at your face. I don't want you to get lung cancer because of me."

  He quickly added: "Or get it at all."

She couldn't help but smile even wider. His expression was so worried, so sheepish, and so full of regret. But the fact that he felt that way, made her feel happy inside.

Because he cared.

About her.

"I forgive you, Cig, " she said softly. "I'll always forgive you."

Simple words she spoke, words that meant the world to him. That's all he wanted: her forgiveness.

But maybe, just maybe, he'll want more one day. For now, though, he was satisfied.

The smile on his face did not go unnoticed by her. And neither did hers by him. But the sweet moment was cut short.

"Oh, no, " she groaned.

"What is it?"

"Look, " she showed her phone to him. "It ran out of battery."

He furrowed his eyebrows as he looked at her phone then at her. He repeated the movements at least three times before his eyes widened in understanding.

Slowly, he stood.

"What are you doing?"

"Sitting beside you, " he responded and plopped down next to her.

"Yes, " she nodded. "I see that. But why?"

He reached into his pocket and smiled at her. "You want to read your book, don't you?"

"Preferably, yes."

"But it's dark and you can't use your phone as a flashlight because it's dead."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Yeah..."

"This is where I come in, " he paused, staring at her. "But first, I need to fix this."

"Fix wha–"

Her mouth closed abruptly and she froze.

His hand was gently pulling her hair back. The slightest brush of his fingers made her shiver and her heartbeat quicken.

"There, " he whispered.

Before pulling away from her, his fingers lingered on the side of her cheek.

He admired her soft, warm skin.

She admired his hard, cold skin.

Clearing his throat, he opened his left hand and she murmured in realization. The flame lit up his face, which made her heart skip a beat.

He made sure to be extra careful when he held the lighter over her book.

  "You better not light my book on fire, Cig, " she muttered, trying to decrease the intensity of the moment.

  The both of them put on calm facades but their hearts were still pounding.

He gave her a mischievous smile. "I won't. Your book is safe. But you are a different story..."

"Hey!" she shouldered him playfully. "Don't you dare."

"Alright, alright. Chill, Rainy."

She narrowed her eyes at him as he chuckled. After a few minutes of playful glares and cheeky grins, they became comfortable with each other. It was as if they were old friends, their connection unwavering.

He yawned quietly, which made her look at him.

"If you're tired, Cig, you can go home."

"No, no. I'm good. You keep on reading, " he told her but she shook her head.

"Cig, you're tired. Come on, " she insisted.

He was incredibly stubborn. "I'm fine, Rainy. You're not even done reading that chapter–"

"Oh, forget about the book, " she sighed and rose to her feet. She stuck out her hand, staring at him patiently.

  He raised an eyebrow. "What do you expect me to do–"

  Rolling her eyes, she grabbed his hand and pulled him up. He was shocked by her strength. How could someone be almost as thin as a stick and have that much strength?

  "Now, go home."

  "What am I? A dog?" he replied.

  She couldn't help smiling at that. "No, you aren't. May you please go home now, Cig?"

  "Better, " he nodded. "But I'm still not leaving."

  "Okay, fine. Stay here in the dark all alone. I'm going home, " she turned and began to walk towards her neighborhood.

  After a minute or two, she heard him walking in the other direction.

  Smiling, she looked back and shouted: "Night, Cig! Sleep tight!"

  She wasn't expecting a response but when he shouted back, it certainly made her happy.

  "Goodnight, Rainy! I'll see you tomorrow!"

  Tomorrow never sounded so good.